Birth of a Butterfly
by Lilian
Summary: One morning, Zach witnesses a conversation meant for his wife's ears only, and he learns of a secret from Ami's past.


**_ Birth of a Butterfly _**

by Lilian

lilian413 at yahoo dot com

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**Author's notes:** I think you all remember that SuperS episode, #151 if I'm not mistaken, where Ami receives her Super power-up. It's a beautiful episode, presenting us with Ami's darkest doubts and fears and giving us a glimpse at her not-so-perfect life. I've always had a special love for that episode, both because of the wonderful tale it tells and for the beautiful artwork that went into it. So, I wrote a fic about it. Although not really. Read on so you understand what I'm trying to say. 

**_Disclaimer:_** SM is not mine. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while.

**P.S:** If you want to read the picture-heavy version of this fic, go to my LJ. It's listed in my Memories, under My Fanfiction. (I'd post a direct link here, but is an ass when it comes to uploading webpage adressesses...)

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He woke to the sound of music. 

Sleep chased away by the string of notes drifting over him, Zach blinked slowly. Sunlight came through the open windows, bathing the apartment in that white light that makes everything look sharper. Rolling on his back, his hand went out to touch his wife—to his surprise, he found himself alone in bed.

He remained tangled between the sheets, letting the soft melody tickle his brain awake.

What time was it? He looked at the bedside clock—which remained religiously on Ami's side, because he had a bad habit of throwing it against the far wall to silence it—and groaned aloud as the little red numbers cheerily informed him it was half past seven in the morning. Falling back against the mattress, he rubbed his face and winced as his fingers caught on a stray strand of hair. It was at times like these that he had the sudden urge to take a pair of scissors to his head, but his annoyance was fleeting: a strong cup of coffee and a kiss from his wife should be enough to dispel such maniacal thoughts away.

He rose with a grunt, noticing the music was still drifting from the hallway and into the room. Was it the radio? It didn't sound like any CD's they owned—and he should know, having only engaged in a battle of wills with his pretty wife not three weeks back, when she had pompously informed him his choice of 'music' left a lot to be desired—but the soft music he was hearing lacked the static that usually accompanied their radio reception.

Intrigued, he made his way out of the room and towards the source of the melody, surprised to see it came not from the living room but rather from the study. " Ami?" he called out, but his voice was drowned out by a sudden surge in the music. Reaching the threshold of the study, still rubbing at his sleep-laden eyes, he paused at the sight that greeted him.

Ami sat on the broad windowsill, the curtains open and sunlight casting her body in golden hues. She wore nothing but one of his shirts, the hem that reached a little past his waist flapping all the way down to her thighs. Its color was white, the purest of whites, and if he remembered correctly, he had been wearing it last night. It made a striking contrast: Ami's skin was naturally pale, that color that no sunbathing can tame; but framed by the ivory of the shirt, she looked almost—frail. As if a hard thought would shatter her away, broken pieces left for the wind to scatter.

She was looking out the window, eyes turned away from him, and something in the way she sat made him want to look into those ocean-colored depths. But he remained silent, something in the air telling him to wait.

She was cradling something, and for a moment, Zach could not make sense of what it was. Half-hidden behind her hands, he identified it as the source of the music that still played, and as Ami's fingers moved around it, the music changed accordingly.

It was something Zach had seen only once or twice before. It was her Mercury Caduceus.

Having only seen it used in the heap of battle, Zach had never really asked himself what the magical weapon was made of, but now, in the soft morning sunlight, he could see the chords clearly, and they flowed and weaved as if alive. Ami's fingers would lazily rap against them and stray notes would come forth, droplets of water floating about. His eyes widened at the sight, realizing that indeed, the chords of the magical Harp were made out of clear water.

He knew Ami had artistic talent. It was in her blood. However, it was a side of her she preferred not to indulge in, and on the occasional time she would feel the call of her heritage, she would often hide the results away. Zach had never really understood why her sweet Ami felt ashamed of that side of her—the side that would rather listen to a beautiful song or paint a breathtaking sunset than spend most of her days and nights buried in books and formulas and theories—but he was betting it had something to do with her abandonment issues.

Ami had only been seven when her father had left. That event had shaped her entire future, forcing her to find solace in books when her home life was falling apart before her eyes and eventually making her withdraw deep within herself, afraid of getting hurt by those she loved. Her entire childhood had been lost that night, when her father had packed up his things, kissed her cheek one last time, and then walked out of her life forever. She had never seen him again.

What little info Zach had been able to collect from the few times Ami had felt secure enough to open that dark part of her life to him, the father-daughter contact had been reduced to random postcards and gifts on important occasions. And as the years wore on and Ami became a woman, even those little things stopped. She lost all connection to her father, and in between fighting evil and juggling a normal life, she never had the time to look him up.

In some strange way, Zach thought, Ami blamed his father's artistic inclinations for the divorce. Perhaps she thought Mizuno Kasuke had loved his paintings more than he loved her, and the poor man had never done anything to prove her wrong, Zach mused. The sad song Ami was playing acted as the perfect background to his train of thought. Maybe that was why she never allowed that side of her to run free: maybe she feared the outcome, feared she'd leave just like her father had.

Shaking his head to rid it from such gloomy notions, and telling himself it was entirely unhealthy to be thinking such things about someone he had never even met, Zach opened his mouth to call her name again when something stopped him. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something in the air changed and when a ghostly figure began materializing beside Ami, he remained silent.

It was just an outline at first, nothing but a faint shimmer amidst the rays of sun streaming through the window. Slowly, ever so slowly, almost in sync with the mournful tune coming from the lyre, it began taking shape—it wore a familiar uniform, sported a familiar haircut and had the same ivory complexion that so suited his Nymph. He knew that figure. He'd fought alongside her quite a few times, even. He'd even slept with that figure more than he cared to admit, he realized, because the traslucid image in front of him was none other than Sailor Mercury herself.

Zach could see both of them now: his Ami, leaning back against the sill, slender fingers still playing the chords of the harp that bore her namesake. Her alter ego, Sailor Mercury, stood a few inches to her left and for Zach, it was like looking into a mirror. A deeper look revealed differences between the two women, however, aside from the clothing they wore, differences he had not seen at first glance.

Sailor Mercury was a little bit taller, it seemed, but he couldn't be sure because Ami was sitting down. There was something about the way the Water Senshi stood, though, that made her **feel** different. _Maybe it's the heels_, he mused, the melancholic notes of Ami's song still echoing about the room. The boots were low, specially considering some of the footwear he had seen on the rest of the Senshi, but they still managed to grant her a few inches in height. The earrings were another thing: while Ami only sported one set of sapphire studs, Sailor Mercury had three, the circles curling along the shell of her ears and making them seem almost elven. Hadn't Zach known any better, he would've said the Senshi's ears were pointed.

The curtains billowed back and forth as the invigorating spring breeze blew in from the open windows. It caressed Ami's cheeks and played with a few strands of her hair, exposing her neck. A pendant rested atop her breasts, dangling from the delicate column of her throat and Zach had the sudden urge to follow its descending path into the soft curves of her chest. He remained still, though, somehow sensing this was Ami's time to be alone. The same breeze made the ribbon on Sailor Mercury's back sway and as the cloth caressed the back of her knees, Zach suddenly found himself wondering how was it that the wind affected the ghostly apparition. And then Ami was speaking, and any thoughts regarding the physical impossibilities of what he was witnessing flew out the window.

"You lied to me", Ami was saying, her fingers never once stilling in their wake across the chords. And the song changed and it wasn't sad anymore, but still it tore at Zach's heart. Ami did not look at the Senshi standing beside her, her eyes never once wavering from the morning Tokyo skyline. The Senshi of Ice said nothing, but her downcast eyes and demure stance spoke what her lips did not. For the first time ever, Zach noticed that the heart-shaped gem resting upon her chest was about three shades lighter than the lapis lazuli embedded in her tiara, and he wondered what other secrets the Warrior held.

"It wasn't enough", Ami whispered, her voice barely distinguishable from the music she was creating, almost one with the song. "I couldn't protect them."

Sailor Mercury closed her eyes, and Zach could see a tear traveling down the transparent cheek. It splattered against the carpeted floor and left a single wet circle in its wake. "I am truly sorry, Ami", she spoke for the first time, and her voice was like Ami's and not like Ami's at all.

Ami's fingers hesitated upon the lyre and the ghost-Senshi flickered in and out. Zach realized it was Ami herself the one who had summoned her alter ego to life. And it was Ami's music the one keeping them both separated, able to communicate face to face rather than inside Ami's own head. Soon, his Nymph's hands became steady again and as the music played on, Sailor Mercury reappeared, standing to Ami's right this time, closer to her than she had been before.

"Why do you keep me here, Ami?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, and for a while, Zach thought Ami wasn't going to answer. In the end, his love's eyes closed and her head fell back against the wall: "Because I want to understand."

Zach wanted nothing more than to run into the room, scoop Ami up in his arms and hug the life out of her; promise her everything was going to be all right and chase away all the demons plaguing her mind. But he knew the value of self-discovery and only for that, he remained hidden in the shadows of the hallway, letting the coldness of the tiles seep into his bare feet and feeling nipples hardening with the morning chill. Somehow, it made him feel better that Ami was wearing his shirt during this whole otherworldly ordeal—he couldn't be with her in the flesh, but he could at least lend her some emotional strength.

"I do not hold the answers you seek, little one."

He was surprised, to say the least, at the way the Senshi addressed her other half. He had always considered the Senshi and the Woman as one, two parts of one whole, the perfect merge of human and not-so-human. It seemed he had been seriously mistaken. Even if his Nymph and her Senshi counterpart both bore the same face, the same body, even the same scars, their minds were polar opposites. His agile mind came up with a quick explanation: the Mercury Senshi was the embodiment of generations upon generations of warriors, the result of ages of experience. Upon receiving her henshin pen, his Ami had also gotten the expertise and power of dozens – perhaps hundreds – of young women before her; but in the end, she had remained just Ami, whereas her Senshi persona remained a separate entity in on itself.

He knew not whether this was the case with the rest of the Senshi: perhaps a conversation with Luna was in order. But Ami was already speaking and he concentrated on the conversation, leaving such thoughts for later contemplation: "I have not asked anything yet."

A sad smile curled Mercury's lips and it was so reminiscent of Ami's, Zach couldn't help the shudder than ran up and down his spine. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck…

"You forget, Ami: you and I are more connected than you might like to think."

Tension flowed through Ami's body like a ripple upon a still pond, and the music springing from the harp changed once again. It took an angry tone; harsh, sudden strokes making the notes jump about in a chaotic dance that left Zach's head spinning.

"Stop it", Ami spat, and there was such venom in her voice that Zach stared in awe. He had never heard her talk like that—what was it about this encounter than could rattle his Nymph so?

Sailor Mercury shook her head. "I am not doing anything." She approached Ami slowly, her gloved hand coming to rest upon the fast moving fingers of the younger woman. "Slow down, Ami. You will hurt yourself."

From across the room Zach could see the silent struggle that took place between his love and her alter ego: Ami refused to stop while Mercury tried in vain to still her jabs against the fluid chords of her harp. In the end, self-preservation won over stubbornness and Ami stopped her frantic abuse of the instrument she held. The music came to a stop and the silence that followed was all the more deafening because of it. To his surprise, Sailor Mercury did not disappear: instead, she solidified to the point where it was impossible to say she had once not been real.

Ami stared at their joined hands for a while, her eyes as unreadable as the ice she had control over. Slowly, a tear fell from her eyes, followed closely by a sister. And then another fell. And another after that. And then she hid her face in her hands; hard, jolting sobs erupting from her chest. Zach bit his lip, every cell in his body screaming to get in there and comfort her. when a scrap of paper floated from the table nearby and landed at his feet, carried there by another gust of wind blowing by. Curious, he knelt, picked it up and read the headline of the news article contained within:

"SONGWRITER TOSHIYUKI NISHIO FOUND DEAD AT AGE 37"

The name stirred memories, old memories, and he struggled to call them forth as Mercury cradled the crying Ami to her breast and held her while she wept. Something about the picture evoked warmth within his chest: the hardened warrior comforting the suffering young woman. Mercury must've seen a lot of pain and death in her time, Zach mused, watching the gloved fingers trail paths in Ami's hair. Close as they were, Zach could see that Ami's hair was three shades darker that her counterpart, and something about that difference tore at his heart.

Watching the caduceus slip from Ami's numb fingers and land on the floor beside them, Zach suddenly remembered the name: Toshiyuki Nishio. He had been a successful songwriter some years back: he remembered dancing to one of his hits on Rei's wedding day. But he had dropped off the face of the Earth—or show business, at least—over the past decade if he remembered correctly. He suddenly wished he had paid more attention to Minako's ramblings: he could've used the information right about now.

But how did a deceased songwriter relate to his wife? What did a strange man he had barely remembered until now have to do with his Ami that his death had affected her so much?

He let his fingers relax, letting the crumpled news-clipping slide from his still fingers. And he looked up to find himself staring into eyes as old as time itself, eyes that were so like his wife's and yet not alike at all. Pools of molten sky they were, and he rose to his full height and still had to look **up** to her, despite the fact he knew Ami has a good five inches shorter than he was. But then again, but wasn't looking at Ami, was he? This was Mercury, a different persona all together.

"How?" was all he managed to croak out before a rush of images slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He stumbled, driven back by a force that was not physical at all, as the assault of memories continued. He saw Ami as a young girl, still in her teens, blushing profusely as she met an online friend for the first time. He saw her typing a friendly message, something about lyrics to a song and feelings to the music, and her dreams overwhelming her and _pleaseDaddydon'tleaveIpromiseI'llbegood_, and then she was running away, fear coursing through her veins and how could I even try to write this?

_How can **I**, who study all the time, attempt to put words to this beautiful song they wrote? _

He saw an exquisite landscape, Switzerland mountains guarding a serene lake, water so clean you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the lake started—he had seen that scene before. In black and white, but the same nonetheless. It was a canvas, hidden away behind medical textbooks and a plethora of scientific papers, and on the bottom right corner, two little letters in bold: M. K.

He came back to himself with a start. Gasping for breath he hadn't realized he needed, he gazed into Mercury's eyes, but in them she saw nothing but his own face staring back. He suddenly realized he was seeing **through** her, watching Ami through her Senshi alter ego and she seemed different, somehow—colored with the ghostly form of the warrior inside of her, she appeared stronger, harder… he couldn't quite put it in words.

Maybe he didn't need to. As Sailor Mercury's form became more and more transparent, he watched Ami rise and approach him with slow steps, the flaps of his t-shirt billowing about and caressing her long, delicate legs. He didn't realize when Sailor Mercury disappeared. One moment he was seeing Ami as if she was obscured by this thin sheen of mist, and the next, she was standing in front of him, almost as if she had stepped **into** her doppelganger and became one with her again.

Perhaps she had done just that, he mused, a glimpse of a memory flashing across his mind. So young, Ami had been so young—young enough to lack the self-confidence she had now, young enough that the enemies' lies saw the chink in her armor and crawled through. They had almost died that day, he knew: Ami had told him about that particular fight, of the day when she had embraced her inner Senshi and thus awakened her true power. Her birthright. Her destiny.

"Ami", he started to say, but she placed her fingertips across her lips, effectively silencing him. Her skin was warmed by the morning sun, and smelled faintly of vanilla: it was one of the many things that had drawn him to her in the first place. Now he just stood there, letting her watch him, knowing it was something she needed to get out on her own. So instead of rushing her, he just let her do as she pleased.

When her hand slid slowly across his face and cupped his cheek, Zach leaned into her touch. She whispered something under her breath, too fast and too low for him to catch. But the feeling behind the words was there, palpable between them like a living thing.

"I love you."

They had said those words to each other many times in the past: at their wedding, at their first anniversary, that first time by the campus library and all the times in between. But none held the amount of emotion this last declaration did; all the previous love promises seemed to pale in return.

It was all suddenly too much, and Zach drew her into his arms with an expert flick of his wrist. She didn't struggle and seemed to melt against him; long, thin body melding itself against the hard planes of his own. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the citrus smell of her shampoo, and found himself fighting the urge to crush her against him in a desperate attempt to hold on.

Why did he suddenly feel like she would slip from his embrace and fade into the morning sunlight? As if she was nothing more than a half-remembered dream—a dawn mirage, fleeting and ethereal and impossible. Fear clawed at his heart; fear that she would leave him bereft and mourning the loss of true love.

She seemed to sense his distress and wove her fingers into his hair in response. "I won't ever leave you, Zoisite." Calling him by his true name made the sleeping general in him flare to life, Sailor Mercury answering in turn, and for a moment there, Zach felt both ancient essences blend across their joined bodies. The feeling soon passed, and then it was only Ami and he, alone with each other.

"I'm sorry", Zach whispered, fingers brushing at the nape of her neck, "He meant a great deal to you, didn't he?"

It took Ami long moments to answer. When she did, her warm breath tickled at his naked chest. "Yes, he did." She said nothing more for a long time, and Zach allowed her that silence, content with just holding her.

"He wrote the most beautiful songs", she continued after a while, her voice becoming nostalgic as she remembered days long past, "And I was so young, Zach, so very young. And afraid." She chuckled, something in her memories bringing a smile to her lips: "Just ask Usagi: I was so scared people only saw me as this girl genius and not—well, not **me**."

He said nothing, letting her release all of those repressed emotions.

"I met Nishio over the Internet. I wrote lyrics to one of his songs… it was during the time of the Dead Moon Circus, and we were all going through so much."

Zach would never cease to be amazed to hear what his wife and the other girls had gone through. While he struggled with his studies, bent on getting one of the few, coveted spots at some university or other, the Senshi had been not only studying, but also saving the world every week. How had they managed, he would never know—then again, wasn't that the time when they all got their power-ups? Perhaps the constant battles and incessant emotional drain of the Dream Mirrors had given them just the strength they needed. Who knew? Perhaps their power-ups had mirrored other aspects of their lives… just as they gained powers, they were also gaining maturity.

"I—I lost touch with him a few years ago. I never thought—I never thought he'd die before we would see each other again."

A distant part of Zach's brain wondered if he shouldn't be jealous. After all, here was his very pretty wife, talking about another man witch such a soft voice, with such a look in her eyes that she left no doubt how deep her feelings for him were. But then again, his Ami did love deeply, so much so than any of her friends knew.

"I never did thank him, you know."

Whatever he had been about to say fled before he could utter it. Instead, he planted a soft kiss against her hair, tenderly prodding her to continue. "For what, love?"

Ami looked up at him, putting a few scant inches of space between them.

"For believing in me."

Truer words were never spoken, Zach thought, as he was once again bombarded by Ami's memories, Sailor Mercury's gift still lingering at the edge of his senses. He saw Ami, a younger, different Ami. He saw this man, this piano-player, trusting a sixteen year old with his song, giving the quiet girl exactly what she needed to believe in herself. He saw Ami, finally realizing her true worth, saw her finally seeing what other people saw when they looked at her.

It was the shedding of a chrysalis, the weight of her own self-doubt finally off her slim shoulders.

As in response to his thoughts, Ami's form rippled and changed and a few heartbeats later, it was Sailor Mercury he was embracing. Called forth by her magic, the ancient warrior in him awoke as well and he felt the magical winds tickling at his hair, brushing it back and into his customary ponytail. His body warmed up a few degrees, covered by the Terran uniform he favored, and his gloved hands caught on her tiara.

His voice was a few chords lower when he spoke. It should have seemed strange, it should have made him uncomfortable—it didn't. How could it? How could he deny a part of his own soul? How could he pretend he was something he was not?

"His death was by natural causes, Ami. It is no fault of yours."

The woman in front of him – who was Ami and yet wasn't – shook her head. Her earrings caught the morning light and Zoisite felt the brush of her skirt against his pants. "It is not his death that pains me, Zach. It is that he never knew."

It was odd to be dressed in such ancient garbs and yet refer to each other by their present names. And yet at the same time, it was a welcomed comfort: they were not who they had once been; they had modern lives in the modern world. Still, the Silver Millennium's more formal, stiffer speech crept into their words with ease and they let it: it soothed the old souls within them to be granted such pleasantries.

He cupped her face in his hands, brushing gloved thumbs against the first tears making their way down her cheeks. Such a powerful warrior, such a strong woman, brought to her knees by the death of a man she had called a friend. How easy it was to break a human heart, Zoisite thought, half marveled and half-horrified that the departure of one human could do what countless enemies could not.

"He did. Trust me, love, he did."

How could he tell her the things he wanted to tell her? How could he explain to her that to look into her eyes was to see her soul? That if this man, this Toshiyuki Nishio, had spoken to her, listened to what she had to say, then there was nothing more to be said? How could Zoisite put into words what he could not even understand?

Sailor Mercury looked at him, eyes wide and misty, and there were worlds of knowledge behind those orbs. Ancient and new, it did not matter: it was the woman he loved, and he was going to make sure she knew it.

He kissed her, bending his neck just the tiniest bit. She answered him, elbow-long gloves soft against his neck as her hands came around him.

He didn't know when they changed back. All he knew was that one moment his arms were wrapped around her waist, skin-tight fuku like silk under his fingers, and then there was only her skin. There was a rush of power as their warrior essences faded back into them and Zach's hair cascaded around him once more and still, their lips did not part.

They made love softly, tenderly, exploring each other's bodies like they hadn't done in a long time. And the next morning, when Zach woke to the sound of music again, he knew Ami had finally found peace.

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The End.


End file.
